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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074313">Static Electricity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imtelevisionsmoirarose/pseuds/imtelevisionsmoirarose'>imtelevisionsmoirarose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer’s List of The Hottest Things That Have Ever Happened to Him [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dramatic David Rose, Episode: s03e12 Friends &amp; Family, M/M, Masturbation, POV Patrick Brewer, Patrick Brewer is Thirsty, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Relationship, Rose Apothecary (Schitt's Creek), and patrick loves thinking about what's underneath, at least not to patrick, david rose is hot, david rose wears sweaters, patrick is so thirsty, platonic touching that doesn't end up being so platonic, so much pining, this whole series is gonna be so silly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:14:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074313</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imtelevisionsmoirarose/pseuds/imtelevisionsmoirarose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-relationship Patrick gets a sneak peek at David when his sweater gets stuck over his head. </p><p>Takes place right before RA soft opening.</p><p>---------------</p><p>I'm really terrible at summaries so that's a thing about me specifically that you should know.</p><p>---------------</p><p>“David, it’s 80 degrees outside and you’re wearing wool.” He double blinks for added effect. </p><p>David gives him a withering look, as if to scold Patrick for accosting him with common sense.</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>To Patrick’s simultaneous dismay and sheer delight, David reaches down to peel his sweater off and as it folds up and over his head, the t-shirt beneath is carried too, exposing his chest and belly. Patrick’s a little light-headed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer’s List of The Hottest Things That Have Ever Happened to Him [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2212686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>246</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Static Electricity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've been working on my next installment of Coming Together and it's been <i>difficult</i> so I decided to try and write something fun to get my mind off of it and here it is. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it so I hope you all enjoy too.</p><p>I joked a while back about making a series called this and hello here we are! Well well well how the turntables. </p><p>come visit me at im-televisions-moira-rose.tumblr.com — I love meeting new people and hearing from any and everyone!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">The first time David Rose appears on Patrick Brewer’s List of The Hottest Things That Have Ever Happened to Him, they’re not dating yet, but it’s the thing that inspires Patrick to actually make said list.</p><p class="p2">It’s just a few days out from the ‘soft opening’ of Rose Apothecary. David is vibrating at an extremely high frequency and they’ve been moving and reorganizing stock in the back room all morning. Patrick just realized that they never received the second shipment of exfoliating body scrub so David’s on the phone trying to sort it out. Patrick’s worried he might be scaring the vendor with how fast he’s talking.</p><p class="p2">“No, Marie, I do understand. Mhm. I know that you shipped it, but what<em> I </em>am saying is we never received the package. I just checked and the tracking still says ‘In transit’ and you sent it over two weeks ago. It was insured, right? Would you be able to rush another shipment out and file a case with Canada Post? We’re supposed to be doing a soft launch in four days and I’m not trying to run out of all our product before we’re even officially open.”</p><p class="p2">David looks at Patrick, eyes wide, shaking his head and gesturing wildly to the phone at his ear.</p><p class="p2"><em>What the actual fuck?! </em>He mouths. Patrick’s heart flips as he smiles and returns a shake of his head in response.</p><p class="p2">“Okay. Yes. Yep. We can work with that. Thanks again, Marie. And sorry about this. Mhm. Thank you—we’ll let you know how it goes. Okay. Bye.”</p><p class="p2">When David hangs up, he closes his eyes and takes a minute, hands scrubbing over his expressive face. </p><p class="p2">“Are you okay, David?”</p><p class="p2">His hands on his face part, a palm on each cheek and he turns his head towards Patrick, nodding unconvincingly.</p><p class="p2">“Mhm. Yep. I’m just starting to realize that I am a ‘big picture” person and this whole ‘owning a business’ thing is much more detail-oriented than I had originally anticipated or<em> wanted</em>.”</p><p class="p2">Patrick smiles and looks down at the boxes he’s stacking. David’s anxiety is endearing, but then again, everything about David is, somehow.</p><p class="p2">“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got a numbers guy, then.”</p><p class="p2">David’s hands are still on his face, ringed fingers spread with pinkies tucked on either side of his nose, but his eyes soften when they meet Patrick’s and Patrick’s stomach flutters. <em>What is that about? </em></p><p class="p2">“Mm yes. Thank goodness for that.”</p><p class="p2">They pause for a second looking at each other and then David shakes his head, hands dropping back down to his sides.</p><p class="p2">“Ok, um—where were we?”</p><p class="p2">Patrick clears his throat, one hand on his hip and the other on the top of the stack of boxes he’d just finished going through.</p><p class="p2">“I just finished counting all of these, so if you want, you can take them to the floor and start putting the candles out on the display.” He looks back at David with a small grin. “I believe that’s your responsibility as our Aesthetic Manager.”</p><p class="p2">David nods haughtily.</p><p class="p2">“Yes, that’s correct.” His hands are on his hips now and his forehead looks slightly dewy. “Is it hot in here? It feels, like, a tad too balmy to me.” He pulls at his collar dramatically.</p><p class="p2">Patrick glances down at his oxford, sleeves pushed up past the elbows and then looks back up at David’s sweater.</p><p class="p2">“David, it’s 80 degrees outside and you’re wearing wool.” He double blinks for added effect. </p><p class="p2">David gives him a withering look, as if to scold Patrick for accosting him with common sense.</p><p class="p2">“Fine.”</p><p class="p2">To Patrick’s simultaneous dismay and sheer delight, David reaches down to peel his sweater off and as it folds up and over his head, the t-shirt beneath is carried too, exposing his chest and belly. Patrick’s a little light-headed.</p><p class="p2">His eyes hungrily take in David’s skin, tanned and taut. He’s surprised at how defined David’s chest is, admiring its perfectly round, dark pink nipples, the soft dip below his sternum. What really gets him, though, is the trail of dark, shiny hair below David’s bellybutton snaking down into the waistband of the underwear that's peeking out above his jeans.</p><p class="p2">God <em>damn</em> that is hot.</p><p class="p2">He watches enraptured as David’s body stretches away from the sweater and his jeans inch lower and lower until Patrick feels like pulling them up himself. Or down. David wiggles a little with his arms trapped over his head, looking unstable. Okay, he’s clearly struggling now.</p><p class="p2">“Um, is there a problem, David? Did you forget what you were doing?”</p><p class="p2">“Ha. Ha. You’re not as funny as you think you are. My necklace is caught on my label.” David’s voice is muffled by the fabric covering his face and Patrick takes the opportunity to let himself just <em>look</em> a little longer. “Could you please pull my t-shirt down for me while I sort this out? I’m not the correct build for a crop top.”</p><p class="p2">Heat blooms behind Patrick’s eyes, spreading down his cheeks. He’s sure he’s bright red, but luckily David can’t see it.</p><p class="p2">“Oh, uh—sure.”</p><p class="p2">Patrick closes the distance between them with his body and carefully peels the t-shirt down from the inside of David’s overturned sweater. In the last couple months he’s dreamed about undressing David an infinite amount of times but this is the exact opposite of what he’d actually like to be doing and it’s still wildly intimate. Their proximity is intoxicating and he’s willing himself to not get hard, oscillating between thinking about baseball rosters and the wallpaper in his room at Ray’s. The heat radiating off David’s skin is a homing beacon for Patrick’s thirst and he shifts his weight between his feet restlessly as he dares to breathe David’s heady scent in. <em>He’s right there</em>; Patrick wonders what it would be like to feel the thrum of David’s hot heart with his tongue.</p><p class="p2">It’s not lost on him that David is blind and a little helpless to what he’s seeing and he feels slightly guilty for taking advantage of it. The shirt falls back down over David’s waist, concealing his perfect, pebbled nipples, and Patrick gives it a tug down around David's hips. The hair on the back of his neck stands up when his fingertips just barely brush the soft skin there and he catches fire, stepping back and swallowing hard. <em>Keep it in your pants, Brewer</em>.</p><p class="p2">“Okay, I’ve spared you the indignity of midriff baring.”</p><p class="p2">David is finally emerging from the sweater cocoon on his head, triumphantly tugging it off and folding it neatly before he sets it on the shelf behind him. He looks exceptionally disheveled, especially for David, as he rearranges the chain just underneath the center of his clavicle. Patrick would like to bite him there.</p><p class="p2">“Mhm. My hero. How will I ever repay you?”</p><p class="p2">Patrick winks, grinning and trying to seem nonchalant as he picks up some of the empty boxes from already shelved product to break down behind the store. He <em>really</em> needs some air.</p><p class="p2">“Well, David—stocking those candles would be a start.”</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">That night after he showers, Patrick lays on his bed in his underwear and a t-shirt and stares at the ceiling, thinking about what it would be like for David to lay on top of him, chest to chest, body hair rubbing through body hair. How it would feel to have David hard against his thigh. His cock. His stomach. His lips.</p><p class="p2">He runs a lubed hand down his body slowly underneath his shirt, his blunt nails occasionally scraping lightly across his skin, and he imagines it. Imagines the weight of David. He lets himself get hard as he thinks about touching David’s stomach gently. Running his tongue over the hair on the delicate skin below his bellybutton. Biting the inside of his thigh.</p><p class="p2">God, just imagining David’s thighs—strong and lean, elegant—Patrick shudders with pleasure. He wants to bruise them as much as he wants to worship them. His hand pinches the inside of his own thigh, groaning a little at the sting, and he feels his cock twitch. Eager fingertips wander, burning at the memory of David’s skin brief and hot against them, teasing behind Patrick’s balls, light as a feather against his hole. The burst of pleasure in his abdomen expands painfully as he applies gentle but firm pressure, reveling in this relatively foreign sensation of being filled, his other hand working his cock.</p><p class="p2">He thinks about David’s face when he said he had a sloppy mouth. That flicker of <em>something</em> in David’s dark eyes.</p><p class="p2">His breathing is heavy and he hums softly to the quiet room as the heat in his belly builds, his briefs tugged down around his thighs, fingering himself desperately. Patrick is a little embarrassed, a little thrilled about how reckless and frantic David can make him. There’s another part, though, that wishes he had been the one holding David’s hands above his head in the stock room this afternoon.</p><p class="p2">He's close now and his thighs shake with effort, trying desperately to cling to reality as he careens towards the edge of his proverbial cliff. Clenching around two fingers, his hum graduates to a moan of David’s name and he comes hard, spilling messily onto his t-shirt, mouth open and eyes closed. Every cell in his body tingles with hyper-stimulation. Chest heaving, he takes a moment to collect himself and to bask in the soft afterglow of shame that accompanies masturbating to the thought of your business partner accidentally showing you his bare stomach and chest.</p><p class="p2">Eventually he wipes his hands on his shirt and carefully slips it off, tidies up a bit more and then throws it in the hamper. He doesn’t even want to know what David would say about that cleanup method, but hey—Patrick’s undershirts come in packs of five and he doesn’t have to worry about protein stains damaging their delicate fibers.</p><p class="p2">Before he turns off the bedside lamp, he pulls out his commonplace book and marks the edge of the next blank page as a list. At the top he writes:</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <b> <em>Patrick Brewer’s List of The Hottest Things That Have Ever Happened to Him</em> </b>
</p>
<ol class="ol1">
<li class="li2"><em>He accidentally saw David’s stomach and chest at work today when his sweater got stuck.</em></li>
</ol><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">He shakes his head and chuckles to himself with the absurdity of it all, imagining that this is what he was supposed to behave like when he was fifteen—touch-starved and overeager. Shrugging, he switches off the light and rolls to his side.</p><p class="p2">Better late than never.</p>
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